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Authors: Jean S. Macleod
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the terrace and away across the lawn. Moira longed to see the garden, but she contented herself by looking at the old sporting prints which hung above the hall panelling until she heard a footfall on the stairs above her.
“I had forgotten about you,” Serena Melmore said, coming down the stairs towards her. “Will you bring up your case and I’ll show you where you are to sleep?”
She had spoken much as she would have done to a servant and she had not thought it necessary to have Moira’s case carried up to her room for her. Her impartial gaze suggested that she had been confronted with something accidental which she was forced to cope with against her better judgment, and Moira felt her heart beating stormily as she lifted her suitcase and followed her.
Serena led the way up the staircase, turning at the head of it along a gallery where heavy oak doors led into the bedrooms. Moira fancied that she heard voices behind one of them, Grant’s voice and Philip’s arguing plaintively, but Serena passed them all and marched on into the shadows at the end of a long corridor.
“I’ve put you in here.”
She flung open the door of a room flooded in sunshine, a room with a fine view over the park and beautiful old furniture, which could still appear cold and inhospitable because nothing had been done to make it look welcoming. There was no fire in the grate, although the room was chilly with disuse, and the bed was still shrouded in a cotton dust sheet which Serena whipped off with an air of impatience. It seemed obvious that she had hoped, even up to the last minute, that there might have been no need to make up the extra bed.
“One of the maids will come up and attend to this later,” she said coldly. “If there’s anything else you need, you must ask me. The staff will have their work cut out attending to Philip.”
It was not what Moira had expected, and anger mingled with the hurt in her heart as she stood in the middle of the floor after Serena had gone, looking round a room which could have been one of the loveliest in the whole house. Its windows let in all the sunshine there was, and the pale gold and cream of carpet and hangings accentuated all the depth of color in the rich mahogany furniture, yet there was a strange, chill atmosphere about it which caused her to shiver involuntarily.
When a gong sounded through the quiet house, she went towards the head of the stairs, meeting Grant as he stood at an open doorway.
“Will you come and see Philip before you go down?” he asked. “I think he should try to get some sleep as soon as he’s had his lunch.”
He led the way into a large, oak-panelled room where a warm log fire burned brightly in the open grate. Philip lay on a couch before it. A maid had carried up his lunch and was setting the tray out on the table beside him, but Philip seemed hardly interested in the food which Serena had prepared so carefully.
“Have you got settled in?” he asked as soon as he saw Moira. “Has Serena made you comfortable?”
“Yes, thank you.” She turned to Grant. “I hope I’m not making myself a nuisance and giving your cousin too much work. I’d like to—look after my own room, if I may. I’ll have plenty of time for that sort of thing when Philip is resting.”
“There’s no need for you to do domestic work,” Grant said briefly. “You are here to nurse Philip and your room will be looked after in the ordinary way.”
He turned towards the door as the gong sounded through the house for a second time, beaten impatiently by someone in the hall below.
“Sounds like Serena!” Philip grinned. “You’ll get a black mark if you keep her waiting on your first day back, Grant. When you’re at the hospital it does not matter so much, but when you are at large in the house there’s no excuse!”
“Where has Serena put you?” Grant asked as he closed his brother’s door behind them.
“In the room at the end of the corridor. The one with the
“I had forgotten about you,” Serena Melmore said, coming down the stairs towards her. “Will you bring up your case and I’ll show you where you are to sleep?”
She had spoken much as she would have done to a servant and she had not thought it necessary to have Moira’s case carried up to her room for her. Her impartial gaze suggested that she had been confronted with something accidental which she was forced to cope with against her better judgment, and Moira felt her heart beating stormily as she lifted her suitcase and followed her.
Serena led the way up the staircase, turning at the head of it along a gallery where heavy oak doors led into the bedrooms. Moira fancied that she heard voices behind one of them, Grant’s voice and Philip’s arguing plaintively, but Serena passed them all and marched on into the shadows at the end of a long corridor.
“I’ve put you in here.”
She flung open the door of a room flooded in sunshine, a room with a fine view over the park and beautiful old furniture, which could still appear cold and inhospitable because nothing had been done to make it look welcoming. There was no fire in the grate, although the room was chilly with disuse, and the bed was still shrouded in a cotton dust sheet which Serena whipped off with an air of impatience. It seemed obvious that she had hoped, even up to the last minute, that there might have been no need to make up the extra bed.
“One of the maids will come up and attend to this later,” she said coldly. “If there’s anything else you need, you must ask me. The staff will have their work cut out attending to Philip.”
It was not what Moira had expected, and anger mingled with the hurt in her heart as she stood in the middle of the floor after Serena had gone, looking round a room which could have been one of the loveliest in the whole house. Its windows let in all the sunshine there was, and the pale gold and cream of carpet and hangings accentuated all the depth of color in the rich mahogany furniture, yet there was a strange, chill atmosphere about it which caused her to shiver involuntarily.
When a gong sounded through the quiet house, she went towards the head of the stairs, meeting Grant as he stood at an open doorway.
“Will you come and see Philip before you go down?” he asked. “I think he should try to get some sleep as soon as he’s had his lunch.”
He led the way into a large, oak-panelled room where a warm log fire burned brightly in the open grate. Philip lay on a couch before it. A maid had carried up his lunch and was setting the tray out on the table beside him, but Philip seemed hardly interested in the food which Serena had prepared so carefully.
“Have you got settled in?” he asked as soon as he saw Moira. “Has Serena made you comfortable?”
“Yes, thank you.” She turned to Grant. “I hope I’m not making myself a nuisance and giving your cousin too much work. I’d like to—look after my own room, if I may. I’ll have plenty of time for that sort of thing when Philip is resting.”
“There’s no need for you to do domestic work,” Grant said briefly. “You are here to nurse Philip and your room will be looked after in the ordinary way.”
He turned towards the door as the gong sounded through the house for a second time, beaten impatiently by someone in the hall below.
“Sounds like Serena!” Philip grinned. “You’ll get a black mark if you keep her waiting on your first day back, Grant. When you’re at the hospital it does not matter so much, but when you are at large in the house there’s no excuse!”
“Where has Serena put you?” Grant asked as he closed his brother’s door behind them.
“In the room at the end of the corridor. The one with the
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